In Your Eyes
by damnation soldier
Summary: "I'll go out with you!" It started as something simple, something new that grew to become something wonderful. To only collapse. But they say, if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.
1. Serendipity

_A/N: Smack me in the face right now. I deserve it. For starting another AU from scrap just because I can't stand not to try this out. God, forgive me._

_This is inspired from the 2004 film and Nicholas Spark's novel titled The Notebook._

_I marvel at how Gwevin can fit the leads. And as for the rest, well I'll figure how to work them out somehow. Go with the flow.. (I'm so lame)_

_Some stuff I'd like to point out about this universe; ~It's vintage, well I want it to be vintage, ~No aliens, well not physically, & ~Expect lots of strange head-canons  
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_Do me a favor and blast me with comments? The good, the bad, I accept 'em all with gratitude. Critique shapes a writer's skill, you know.._

_Reviews = The will power to write MOAR_

_Disclaimer: Don't freaking own a thing, and probably never will (life sucks :P)._**  
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**Chapter 1_  
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_Serendipity  
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_The fact that they met itself was a chance of fate, an absurd one at that since they had nothing in common.  
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* * *

It was a Saturday night when it all began. He's tinkering a few of the game machines to get them to work faster, and it earned him a good amount of dough that would last him about a week. _  
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They didn't even need him to bring his tool box, they just needed him on the job, in uniform. It wasn't really a uniform.

It was a denim jacket that he wore over his white muscle shirt, with a name tag that's not really legible.

But he doesn't mind, in a way, it's almost meant to be since he's intended to keep himself on the down low and always stay the outsider he is.

Kevin nabs the sweat trailing down his eyebrow with the back of his hand, before tossing the wrench to the back of the contraption, out of sight. He slowly stands and step back, ignoring the awful sensation behind his knees, a result of having bent down for too long.

Henry Oaks, the sixty something old booth owner, makes his way to pull down the lever by the base, activating the machine. The meter scale of the high striker lights up as a small buzzing sound whirrs.

"Good work, kid," Oaks pats the young man by the shoulder, who's still slightly stiff, both from the rough handiwork he's done and from the slightly wrong name to call him by. 'Kid' wasn't exactly the right phrase to quip the Levin. He was tall, lean and muscular, way beyond his size to be called as such.

However the coal eyed seventeen year-old didn't complain, and shrugged out a small thanks as his employer handed out a fifty dollar bill for his services.

Without even being told to scram, and to stop blocking the arcade game with his imposing frame, Kevin walked away.

* * *

"That will be one fifty," a slightly flustered brunette handed him the wrapped hot dog. "Mustard, anything?" She fiddled shakily with the tip of her curls, eyes big and flirtatious that Kevin resisted the urge to get his purchase for free.

It's a shame that there's still some form of dignity left in him, though he's unsure how much.

"No thanks," with that he paid for the treat, before leaving the drooling teenage intern behind.

A distance away, Kevin sat down, positioning his body on the bench so that no one would confuse it for the image of an empty spot. It wasn't that he was greedy, it's just that he'd rather sit alone, uncomfortable with almost anyone's company.

He finished his meal rather quickly, silently observing the simultaneously activating rides and games of the carnival after tossing the paper wrapper into a nearby trash can.

Evening had dissolved, so did Venus, as the sky morphed into an incline of darkness.

He's staring at the bumper cars field, where a number of the vehicles were being played with. He bit down his scoff to mock the amateur driving, since if those people claim to know a thing or two about steering the wheel, they should've come to the Rig.

The Rig was an underground drag racing field he's participated in on and off. Granted, he might not be the champion driver, being self taught and all, but he could even give some of the most experienced competitors a run for their money despite being fresh off the block.

Kevin was whipped back to reality when a particular laughter, of a girl rang loudly in his ears. Instead of being annoyed, he made out where the sound had derive from.

Keen eyes found its source easily.

She was dressed in a peach blouse which brought out her fair skin, her beige capris hidden beneath the thick dashboard, on which she excitedly spun the wheel around to crash her friend's car from the side.

Her hair is unlike what he's used to seeing. A shade of red so rare, that it's like sunset, cascading down her shoulder in soft waves.

She's a picture of unfamiliar yet warm joy, grinning ear to ear, squealing in glee. Kevin doesn't really know why but he finds the corner of his own lips twitching upwards.

* * *

He ends up trailing behind the mystery redhead like a stalker. Maybe her unique beauty had struck him suddenly, compelled him, one might say.

She's hanging out with a few close friends he imagined. A blonde wearing a head band and sundress, an Asian American dressed in pink and white, and one boy whom she's closest to compared to the other two girls.

The boy wore a green hemmed shirt, russet hair gelled back, leaving his green eyes unconcealed. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he bore the same eyes as the girl he's chasing, to leave him with the conclusion that they just might be relatives.

Though it's easier to not miss the affectionate peck the brunet gives to the partly Asian raven haired girl.

The four entered the metal fence for the Ferris wheel, naturally seating themselves in pairs, though he only pays attention to the fact that _she_ is sitting with the blue eyed blonde.

The pack, quite obviously was of middle or perhaps upper society. Kevin knew he was entering a shark's hen but it doesn't really matter.

Impulse, an almost magnetic force, pushes him to course into his next action.

The wheel had spun once as he caught sight of her mesmerized emerald eyes, staring deeply into the small stars buried in the black sky. She was certainly something else.

A few meters before her capsule rises up again, he leaps right in front of her, latching onto the iron pipe connected to the rim. She screams, just as he expected.

The crowd upon the ride and below on the streets seemed to divert their attention to the eye-catching scene.

The wheel stops, just as they're tipping over the northern point. It's safe to say he's going to end up in a bloody splat if he slips.

"Oh my god!" Her golden haired friend lets out, hysterically. This exclamation apparently blocks out the 'holy cow' from the boy in green a gondola away.

The redhead seemed to have leveled down to some sort of calmness or irritation, he can't really tell, "Can somebody grab a ladder or something?" She avoids his eyes, despite the fact that his onyx ones were searching for hers.

"Sorry miss, we've broken ours last week," the cap wearing operator who's dressed in ridiculous suspenders answers from below.

The green eyed girl massages the bridge of her nose, before looking up at him. Finally.

"Hey, will you go out with me?" The words slur out from his mouth like it's his last breath, almost without caution and her eyes widen. "What?"

"I said, 'Will you go out with me'?" He's moving his head forward a bit, as if to make this an effective repetition.

"What's wrong with you?" She's beginning to get angry at how casual he's being, the nerve. "You climb up here, hang on for dear life to ask a stranger out on a date?!"

The girl next to her squirms at her tone, "Gwen, maybe you shouldn't be yelling at a guy who's suicidal-" Only to be faced with a glare so intense, she goes mute.

Kevin lets out a chuckle, "That actually sounds about right, _Gwen_." Her name feels smooth down his tongue, as if he's meant to say it a hundred times. "Romantic, aren't I?"

"Kinda charming actually," the boy from earlier comments while his date stays in the quiet kind of panicking, as her boyfriend earned a hit to the head with the bear plushy previously on his cousin's lap which she threw with impeccable aim. "Shut up, Ben!"

The teenage Levin looks down at her, as she shakes her head almost defiantly, "No, you're not even close to romantic." Her lips suddenly upturn into a smile, as if she's won, voicing her command, "Emily, call 911 over."

Her friend gets her phone out of her purse, frantically.

Despite the severity of the situation, Kevin grins. She's not winning.

"I bet they aren't gonna get here fast enough before I-" He purposely lets his words struggle to a stop, as he released one hand, to only be holding his weight upright with just one arm.

Somebody, an old woman Kevin imagines, is chanting audible though incoherent prayers form below. He focused back on the task at hand, Gwen.

"Stop!" She screeches, panting despite that she's only moved an inch or two from her spot, and wasn't the one dangling off dangerous heights without a safety net like a monkey. "Are you kidding me?! You- you're crazy!"

"Thank you for the compliment," he talks back nonchalantly, unnerved by whatever she has to say or more accurately, scream.

Emily tries to be the third party, albeit lacking the needed confidence, sounding typically meek, "What's it going to take for you to leave her be and get down, safely?"

His tone is as if he's sitting on the beach, sunbathing which confused her further if that's possible. "Just a date," he twists his neck to regard the seething redhead, "You and me."

"Fine, I'll go out with you," she grumbles under her breath. "Sorry, I can't hear you," Kevin taunts mischievously, to be at the end of her flippant pout, it was almost cute.

When she doesn't respond, he pulls out his last resort.

He fakes his hand to slip, garnering a heart attack from her and several gasps from below, before exchanging his grip to his other hand in the nick of time. He wasn't messing around really, as for a fail-safe he's learned how to maneuver distances down, to catch himself on beams and such.

He's a thrill seeker, knowing no boundaries, but he has the skills to back it up.

Kevin wasn't a gymnast, granted he'd be caught dead doing flips and shits, but he's been a street fighter long enough to be able to scale down a nice brick apartment without rope or ladder.

He's an expert at parkour, both vertical and horizontal.

"I'll go out with you!" Gwen gives up then, admitting defeat loud and clear, while rattling the bow on her blouse that it comes loose. She smashed her back against the thin cushion of the seat, frustrated.

Kevin laughs, extending his free hand mid air for an untimely proper introduction, sickening as it sounds with all light of recent events, "My name's Kevin."

Gwen quirks her eyebrow before suddenly smirking, and he's worried. Instead of shaking his hand, she stands, crouching slightly, keeping a careful balance atop of her stool which extended a foot after her seat.

"Gwen, what are you doing?" She doesn't bother to reply, and instead continues on, making him lose his cool for once.

Her hands boldly reached for his waist, and curse his luck he hadn't wore a belt today to go with his jeans, and it's almost karma when she pulls them down swiftly to his ankles.

His legs felt the merciless cool breeze of the night winds, family jewels only in the protection of his black boxers.

He sighs when he hears the flashes of cameras and wolf whistles from below, plus the more recognizable laughter coming from her pals. She's sitting back again, her long legs crossed, green eyes glinting smugly. "I'm Gwen," her words are slow, alluring, "Though I suppose, you already knew that."

He's not the least bit angry from the assumed humiliation, frankly he could recall he's the one asking for this in the first place with his stunt and all. So he grins crookedly, and if he's actually blinked, he might've missed the small blush hinting her rosy cheeks.

His arms were sore like you wouldn't believe it by the time authorities had arrive to drag him down. But as she turned back and sweetly waved from the pier's entrance, saying a hello or a goodbye, depends on how you see it, he's reminded that..

It was all worth it.


	2. Velocity

_A/N: Desperately wishing for some verbal feedback on this. I had none last chapter. T.T _**_  
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_Help! Is anybody out there?  
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_*throws virtual pillows in random directions  
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_Review please? I'm giving out proverbial cookies anytime you do.. Note, this isn't a bribe.  
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_Please, I beg of you. Share your thoughts.  
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_Disclaimer: You know the drill. Don't own. Don't sue.  
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* * *

**Chapter 2**

_Velocity_

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_Hard. Fast. A plummeting speed. Like a rising tide forming to crash. That was how they fell in love._

* * *

It's not hard to find her again. She's everywhere.

He's learned that she was the town's very own princess. Her family owned three apartment districts, two in Bellwood and one in Northern Carolina and was a major investor in five different international academies.

She lives in an exclusive estate slash residence, with huge white gates and all. The size of the property could in fact fit an entire football stadium and then some. He wasn't joking, nor exaggerating.

It's easy to say she was set for life.

Her family's fortune is all over the papers, on the rich and famous section, not to mention the sympathy winning charity page.

Like true justice, Gwendolyn Tennyson preceded her parent's lineage.

She graduated from Bellwood Prep just over a month ago with a shining 3.9 GPA, an inspiring valedictorian at that. She's an honorary member of the debate team for two years, but she's not a one trick all brains pony since turns out she's also captain of the karate club.

Kevin finds himself amazed, she was one in a million.

He remembers a photograph he'd cut out from the newspaper article. It may have been black and white, but he could paint her with colors perfectly in his mind. She'd been helping out during the opening of a local animal shelter, all the while building a pristine image for her dear family name.

Her looks certainly did her more good than harm too.

She's walking out of the cinema, her friend Emily's arm draped around her shoulders, the two laughing in tow. Femininely of course.

Ben, her cousin and his dark haired girlfriend, whose name was Julie followed in suit. He's found out that even her little crowd were all accomplished teens.

Emily's family owned the Saint Mary Hospital, in which only its most modest franchise among six others resided in town.

Julie Yamamoto, of half Japanese ancestry, wielded the tennis racket like a future Olympian despite her young age. She's beaten a myriad of full blooded Americans in such a short notice upon her arrival two years ago. She was heading down a bright track, major sponsorships across the state had already willingly offered their hands.

As for Benjamin, well he's under the same name of the infamous Tennysons, being well provided all his life with the wealth but the boy proved to be another great example. Different but admirable nonetheless.

Granted he didn't achieve as much as his female cousin did in terms of academics, but he made his own name to go along with his relative's great legacies.

Ben had devoted the last five years of his life to do active promotions such as fundraisers for the handicapped and orphaned. He's a local inspiration, an innocent and optimistic spirit.

The brunet who shared the same birthday as his fiery cousin was the likable spokesperson to represent the Tennysons, even more so than Gwen. She doesn't seem to mind, and in fact reveled in the happiness townspeople reflected upon Ben's acts of nobility.

To the contrary, despite of what you may think of, he also harbored a sporty side, being offered a second string place on the North American Football Union for his soccer playing.

Kevin let out a low whistle. They were sure a powerful pack.

* * *

Julie had noticed the devilish young man spying on one of her best friends. The hazel eyed girl tapped her boyfriend's cousin by the elbow, gaining her attention.

"What is it?" Before letting her friend talk, Gwen had already skipped ahead, the buzz overtaking her from the recent movie as it seemed. "Let me guess, you want to go for Chinese instead of pizza tonight? That's your war with Ben, not me, Jules."

"That's not it," the short haired girl giggles then, because boy, the female Tennyson was as observant as a detective. "I'm good with pizza, for Ben's sake. He's been craving them like nuts," her expression turns alert then, "Gwen, the Kevin guy from yesterday-"

"What of him?" She had cut her off, abruptly on guard too.

"Well, he's here," Julie rolled her eyes to set them into the direction of where the male was standing, just by the parking meter and.. their, well her car.

"Oh shoot," Gwen remarked quietly, tilting her head sideways. "Let's just hope he doesn't notice me.."

She'd been intrigued yesterday by the feat he'd perform, especially for her. But as she went to bed last night, the prospect of how it was probably some sort of a joke eludes her.

She'd done a good amount of research on him too, unbeknownst to him.

She's discovered his old records, for being held in a juvenile detention multiple times for his assault which included a rowdy riot in several rundown bars, illegal racing and pot dealings. The very definition of a rebel, for short.

Although he went clean last summer, Gwen thought rationally, _You could never know when someone truly changes unless you were him. Old habits die hard after all._

She was walking on a thread if she went out with him, she knew it. He was trouble, and she should just flick him off like a bug. Her controlling parents would flare up if they came to know about yesterday's fiasco, let alone if she agreed on associating herself with such a boy.

But then on the other hand, there's a part of her that's genuinely interested. The part of her that's still an ordinary girl, who's attracted to boys. _I mean like - it's not everyday some tall, dark and handsome guy puts himself on the verge of extremes just to get a yes out of me._

There's also another, even smaller part of her that wants to give him the go sign just to piss off her folks. It's about time she's had a little adventure anyways.

Julie had tried to take off her striped fedora, presumably to give the green eyed girl some sort of disguise when Gwen placed her hand attentively on her friend's shoulder to stop her.

She smiles, looking daring and devious, "You know what? On second thought, I think I'd like to try things out. Who knows? Screwed up beginnings can make a whole lot of fun. I'll tell you guys the details tomorrow.."

Julie intercepts her words with much disbelief. "Ar- are you sure?" She stuttered.

"Positive," Gwen neatens up her do, clipping the pearl barrette into her thick crimson locks to sweep them over the side. She shrugs, "Besides, red hair isn't easy to hide."

She's taking some sort of profound pride, strutting away as she tossed her 1948 bronze Tucker keys to the renowned tennis player without even bothering to look back.

* * *

"Hey you," his arms were out of its previous cross, now hanging limply by his sides as she came approaching. He was a bit perplexed by the fact that he's the one playing the passive aggressive role instead of her.

"Kevin Levin, isn't it?" She's hitting on him quick, he'll give that to her. He does a double take on the girl.

The ivory dress she's wearing, though conservative as in without the revealing back line or being sleeveless, is definitely curve hugging. Her chest and hips are brazenly accentuated so that he can see her slim figure like it's black ink on white paper.

He refuses to be distracted by the altogether gorgeous image in front of him. His will power prevailed as he was able to play his cards perfectly. "Been doing your homework, haven't you, Gwendolyn?"

She takes a step forward, her lips curving into a vivacious smile. "And so have you apparently."

"Nicely put," he nodded smoothly.

A hand on the hip, then she leans to the side, pretending to be clueless despite the intelligence game they're engaged in, "So.. Remind me again, what was it that you asked of me yesterday?"

Kevin makes a small good humored bow, as if he's a gentleman, an esteemed bachelor or something. The irony! "I believe you are indebted to me, milady."

"Would you care to explain how can I be free of this burden?" She uses the tone her mother relinquishes for her speeches, personifying absolute dominance. "Please do enlighten me, good sir."

"An evening out would be most adequate," he extends a hand out, for him to lead her away.

She takes it.

He's bewildered by the way her hand fits perfectly inside of his.

* * *

They do get along. Really.

Well at times they do.

An hour of conversation had let them get reacquainted, to get to know each other better apart from the incessant media tracking prior.

He's an undefined Jewish, she's a devoted Catholic. She had showed him the darling cross pendant she hid inside her collar to confirm her religion.

Her parents were intact and well, while his were both long gone.

Cars and fixing crap is his life. Prestige and power is what she stands for.

She's a bit too stuck-up and prim and proper for his general liking. Sure, her ladylike ways had its perks, hypnotizing the opposite gender by a mere sway of her hips, but that was about it. And it was another disadvantage for him to have other men creeping lustful glances at her.

They're walking around the fifth avenue, shops all dimly lit, the sidewalk quiet and serene.

"You are so prissy," he comments, licking the top of his vanilla cone like a puppy while she uses a plastic spoon she had requested from the ice cream vendor earlier. She scoffs, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he steals the spoon from her, holding it out from her reach, _oh bless height difference_, "I know you're a girl and all but _sheesh!_"

"You did not just insult me about my manners, Mister-I'm-Wanted-By-The-Cops since the age of thirteen," she shot back.

"Prove it then," he towers over her, expression suggestive that it leaves her dumbstruck. She tries to cover this up, by tiredly asking, "Prove what?"

"That you can lose a bit of etiquette when you're around people like me." She had wanted to question him rather crossly on what he meant by _people like me_. Aren't they just the same? Equals? Grudgingly, she cast the query aside.

She eyes him skeptically, then went back to her strawberry scoop, trying to not squash the frail cone within her agitated grip. Challenge accepted. She slowly took the treat upwards to her mouth, and that's when his hand purposely jabbed hers. _Splat!_

_Instant perfume. _Kevin laughs keeping the joke to himself.

She literally came face to face with the cold fruity goo, shocked as if zapped by electricity. Though her dress didn't suffer any damage, it was still downright embarrassing. She opens her mouth to cuss, foul words threatening to escape, but that's when he began to gently wipe the cream off of her with a stray napkin he's kept in his pocket.

The words she wanted to reprimand him with were lost, her temper ousted, her eyes clouded. Silence engulfed them as he kept stroking her moist cheek against the dry cloth.

He gets the last of the sugary fluid to come off, she's completely clean now, that he ended his touch on her poised chin.

It's the longest time she's ever held his gaze without looking away.


	3. Anchor

_A/N:_ _Would like to thank you guys so much for reviewing or putting this on alert/favorites. I'm touched. _

_Oh, just for future reference I think I should tell you guys that Emily, who's a recurring character in this, isn't on a wheelchair like she is on the show. She's perfectly capable of walking on her own though she's not as sporty as Julie and Gwen._

_I think I've said what I needed. So please continue to leave your thoughts, it would make me very happy to be able to see what you think. Thank you!  
_

_Disclaimer: Too poor to ever own such a thing. Maybe in heaven I will._

* * *

**Chapter 3_  
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_Anchor  
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_He's thought it'd be hard, to not run, but she keeps him grounded. Just like the earth spinning on its axis. She's inescapable.  
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* * *

She's left him wanting for more. And so did he, despite all odds. _  
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Their dates persists, from day after day. It was the only fraction of Gwen's routine she actually looked forward to.

She's taken small measures at getting him familiarized with her clan, _um_, friends.

They had arranged a double date with her cousin and girlfriend at the Pizzeria just last night.

Ben had instantly warmed up to Kevin, being an only child who secretly, desperately wished for a brother of some sort. On the other hand, Julie was visibly reluctant but in the end she had also coerce a sincere attempt at knowing and liking the Levin.

After all, who was she to judge the only man who's ever brought a smile so bright to the redhead? Julie had never felt happier for her friend. Gwen had always been rather reclusive when it comes to boys, and this change was a good one, she decided.

Kevin had opened up to the female Tennyson, bringing out the side of him only a few people know.

She's been in his garage slash living space, and Kevin had himself forget his shame of letting others see just how low he stood on the economy. In truth, Gwen find his humble abode quaint and charming. She's never been one to let herself be blinded by the money and insensitively stump on the less fortunate, she's not that kind of girl.

She's understood that no one could ever choose which family they'd be born to, which riches they'd inherit and so on. She was just a very lucky girl to have the Tennyson name and what comes along with it.

In fact she's been rather presumptuous, having rejected most of her suitors just because they came from a background alike to hers. She has her reasons, and logical ones at that. Those men who put themselves by her feet only wanted their share in her family's affluence once they enter some type of commitment.

She despised greedy, conniving men. They're the worst trap she could ever stumble upon, so she does everything in her power to distance herself from them. Maybe this was why she's so generous, and charitable. And maybe this was why she feels so safe with Kevin. He was nothing alike those men. He's simple and honest.

She recalls how she spent her time lingering, and perhaps distracting the pale skinned male just a few days ago.

_"So this is what I do," he says lamely from under the work bench as he worked on the bottom of the vehicle which was lifted up by a retractable ramp. _

_Gwen kicks at his foot from her spot in the couch, closing her foreign reading book instantly. _

_She'd missed French, rather guiltily at that, but Monsieur Phillip had told her it wasn't a bother since she's already at such an advanced level. To compensate for the loss of her lesson, her tutor had assigned her a small reading task and to orally explain whatever she's learned to him during their next meeting.  
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_"What was that for?" Kevin jolts from the impact of her assault, though it had been light and rather harmless, it was also unexpected.  
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_"Don't use that tone on me," said Gwen. "Your job is something to be proud of, I mean I can't even do this sort of thing," she reasoned for emphasis, setting her book on the coffee table then moving to join him on the ground.  
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_"Hey you're gonna get some dirt on your-" He tried to warn her, he knows she's always in fancy clothes that aren't worth staining. He maneuvers quickly to get himself out from under the car, using his leg to roll the wooden wheeled board he's laying on.  
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_"And you think I care?" She interjects, questioning him to what he already knows. Before he was ready for such an act, she's positioned herself to straddle him boldly from above, her hands pinning him from both sides, her hair inches above his face. She looked thoroughly amused.  
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_Kevin allows himself to grin. His habit of being rather fearless had rubbed on her.  
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_Her green eyes subtly trailed down his form. The black and now wet shirt he's wearing gave her a nice outline of the chiseled muscles around his arms and torso. Any inch of his skin visible were glistening in sweat. This doesn't disgust her, in fact she's rather fond of this sight of him. All rough and disheveled. His eyes were a pit of endless onyx abyss, and she finds herself lost in them.  
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_"Since you don't care.." He began, with a sly yet elusive expression that makes her heart beat faster. "I suppose you don't mind this," his hand came up to her face, a grease covered finger smudging her cheek.  
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_She gasps at the spontaneity, before smacking him in the chest, laughing zealously all the while. He caught her hand and pulled, making her topple on top of him.  
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* * *

He's taken her to the Rig. He didn't compete in the race, not wanting to leave her all by herself. His sole purpose of dragging her there was to show her something new, another part of his mysterious life. _  
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It was relieving the fact that Gwen hadn't want to race as well, because being the straight up girl she is, Kevin's thought she'd wanted to jump in on it. The girl was a far better driver than most people he know, but she wasn't trained in street style so he'd figured the old pros would've probably wipe the floor with her. Not to mention if she wrecked her car, it would be a pretty penny to pay.

He's glad though that she's happy enough to watch the track by the side lines, hands entwined with his.

She was more than excited to come, and prepared too. Gwen was a smart girl, and knowing the area was a rather nasty one, she had dressed herself in a less recognizable fashion, wearing a rather plain-Jane coat that covered most areas, with long leggings and boots.

Though it was a good attempt at staying invisible, apparently men were always hawk savvy at being a pervert. A notable contestant, Joey was his name, with a dashing '53 Studebaker Pro Mod had set his eyes on her from the beginning.

_"Levin," the copper haired male saluted as a greeting. "You're in for a treat today, they're betting five grand for yours truly," he cockily gestured to himself. "So I'm guessing you're not joining the game tonight?"  
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_To Gwen's surprise, this rather crass remark didn't light her boyfriend's short fuse, and in fact Kevin nodded a curt 'yeah' before responding teasingly. "And they're betting double on your defeat," he sneers lightly, before shaking his head. "Let me in, already. You're not exactly a star doorman, where's Big Jim?"_

_The lightly tanned male didn't answer the question but relented to the request.  
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_"Alright, alright," Joey makes path for the paler boy, and that's when he noticed the attractive redhead trailing behind him. "Hey, babe," he tried inching closer to only be blocked by the former street rat. "Yo, Levin, share your treat with the rest of us-"  
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_Apparently this comment did wonders in infuriating him, "Don't you talk about her that way."  
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_Gwen blushes at her companion's protectiveness, before composing herself. She grabbed a hold of his calloused hand, before asking him to lead their way for the show.  
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_Joey raised an eyebrow at this, and ignoring boundaries, he came forward to grab her from behind.  
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_Kevin hadn't been prepared to protect her, but Gwen was.  
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_Being a black belt, she'd sensed him coming and just at the last second she released herself from Kevin's grip to turn back and use both hands to catch Joey by the wrist and shoulder, twisting them over painfully that a crack was heard. She must've teared a ligament or two. "Ah-ah," the captured teen groaned. "Sorry miss- gah!" He hissed, "My arm's gonna break if you don't let go!"  
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_Kevin who had seen the deed, was undeniably impressed, and a bit shocked if he's being honest. She's a tough girl, he'll never question that. He smirked at her next words.  
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_Gwen leans over the rude boy's ear, and coldly states, "If you try that again, I'll make sure you're incapable of ever having children."  
_

_With that she pushed him over, making him land on the asphalt, before returning into Kevin's comfortable reach, smiling endearingly as if nothing happened.  
_

Kevin smiled in nostalgia before leaping over the small fence of her back garden. She had invited him to come by, and gave him information on how to sneak in and out through the back entrances. _  
_

They had a lovely lunch, on her private balcony which was an extension to her alarmingly large suite. Ben had joined them, and once again managed to screw him over the head.

They were just talking about how handy his capabilities would come if they had a motor breakdown or some sort of accident before the brunet talks over a bite of croissant, "So Kevin, what do you say about helping me work on the pole?"

Kevin sputters and chokes indignantly at this, eyes the size of saucers, "What?"

Sure, he's done some odd jobs before he figured out his true element, but he's never stooped so low to selling his own body out there in those kinky nightclubs. _What in the name of hell-_

Gwen takes hold of his hardening bicep, leaning into his space, "He means the mess in his yard which is his soccer net," she translated, and he lets out a breath he hadn't know he was holding, "Oh."

He recuperates quickly, "Well sure, I owe you one after all." He's made a recent discovery over their three way conversation that Ben had bet for him in the Rig a few months ago, and he had won a good five hundred during his crisis. It was only because of the green eyed boy's intervention he was able to pay his rent.

"Uncle Carl and Aunt Sandra offered to get you a new one," Gwen pointed out before asking, "Why not just let that old thing go? It's like a shipwreck, Ben. You had it for almost a decade."

Ben shakes his head at this, before appearing to look dreamy, "I've made some amazing goals on that thing."

"Goals?" His cousin scoffed, "More like scoring Elena Validus's lips," Ben flushed at this truth, the girl had been his first crush, first love. She had moved away for her father's job as an up and coming scientist, and thus leaving his feelings unreturned. Gwen disliked the Validus girl with a passion, because she'd been less than considerate to leave her cousin at such a poignant state.

"Julie's a far better match for you," she stated as if declaring law.

"Fine, Gwenny. But just so you know, I meant it about the goals. I had Cash's face smashed in that thing along with the tie breaker two summers ago," he defended.

"What ever helps you sleep better at night, Benji," she gets even with him for the nickname, before grabbing another delicious pastry.

Kevin couldn't help to imagine how would it be if they had two more seats added in.

Like the thorny ivy he's walking over carefully, he wants to avoid her parents at all costs, they intimidated him, and she'd told him that despite how well they raised her, Frank and Lily had always been over controlling. Gwen had also gave the implication that they'd go public to her folks when the time is right.

He's more than willing to comply, even internally wishing such a thing would be postponed for as long as possible. It wasn't that he didn't want to go steady with the girl, in fact given their closeness they were already linked by an invisible thread, it was just the probability of Gwen's parents having a different outlook than their youthful daughter.

_Not probability. Scratch that. It's the fact of it._

Both Ben and Gwen had already expressed that other members of their family weren't as open as they were to the middle and low class.

_"But they're not going to be a problem to us. I listen to my heart, not theirs," he remembers how Gwen had strongly assured him, lightly pecking his cheek afterwards. She was just about to grant him a full kiss on the lips then-  
_

_"Get a room, you two!" Ben shields his eyes, complete with over the top moaning as if tortured, though he made out with Julie just a moment ago when he'd let her go off in a cab for curfew. What a hypocrite._

_Kevin stared at the scheming look forming on Gwen's face, she brought up her index finger to shush him before he could say a word. She's wearing heels but that doesn't stop her from scampering off quicker than a mouse and returning with their unpaid bill, quickly taping it on the edge of the diner style table. _

_Kevin holds back a snicker when she energetically pulls him by the hand and they run out of the restaurant, abandoning her clueless cousin to pay their food and drinks all by himself.  
_

_When they're far enough and out of sight, he tugs at her, expression obscene, "Now, where were we?" He's referring to their prior intimacy before they were so rudely interrupted, and he doesn't even have to wait as much as a second before she confidently pressed her lips against his.  
_

_Their shadows melded in the night, to never part ways._


	4. Compulsory

_A/N: That was a horribly long hiatus, and I am terribly sorry and guilty for it like you wouldn't believe. _

_I was heavily occupied with school and I'm just glad I miraculously found the time to fit this into my schedule. Good news is I've managed to jot down the entire plot_ _of this story and am pleased to confirm that this fic would take fifteen chapters to complete, give or take. _

_Sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter by the way.  
_

_So please, share your thoughts? Suggestions? Critiques? Anything would do. Thank you!  
_

_Disclaimer: Not even the legal age to drink. So, put two and two together.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 4  
**

_Compulsory_

.

.

.

_The design of their bond is sown with such ill fated elements that worries him. It called for ignorance._

* * *

When Gwen shows up in his garage for their usual early day time dates, which meant lounging, talking, laughing and gorging themselves on some cheap take outs, she hadn't bother to seat herself in her domain and instead paced around on her oxfords.

He's slightly distracted by the timid beat of her steps, no matter how quiet she's being. "What's wrong?" He stops working, coming to seat himself up, out from under the car to regard her.

She bends down carefully to hand him the previously hung towel, and he cleans himself up a bit with it.

Clearing her throat, she straightened her posture. "My brother's returning from college later this afternoon," she mentioned.

"That's nice."

He nods slowly, not fully able to comprehend where this was leading. She bit her bottom lip before continuing, "So as per usual my family's having a get together lunch, like a picnic around our back garden with tents set up. All the Tennysons and a few close friends are invited to attend."

He kind of understands her, and now that he did, _oh no_, he did not like where this is going.

He's pulled a one of a kind effort to stray away from the impending introductions to her folks, scratch that - _confrontation_ would better suit it since it would surely twist his insides the moment they realize their daughter's in a committed relationship with a street rat.

"You- you wanted to ask me to go with you," he deadpans. It's not a question, but a statement but still Gwen gives him the affirmative nod.

"What do you say?" She asks, beginning to trace her fingers nimbly around his wrinkled tee. He shortly gulps. She's working her way to distract him, the tone of her voice uncharacteristically delicious.

"It starts at one, so we still have two hours to ourselves.." _To make out and beat our last record. What was it? Two minutes and forty-five seconds?_ _We could definitely use an improvement.._ She doesn't have to say that part out loud because they both know it like it's a secret language of their own.

_Oh_, he's clearly underestimated how devious the red haired siren in front of him can be. If he's overreacting, he might be aware that his pants had tied up in a knot when she positions herself to glaze above his torso and legs.

"For me?" Her eyes are hypnotizing, and it's sort of a cliche given that he's learned she suffers from arachnophobia given how much of a spider she's being right now by entangling him hopelessly into a mess of webs.

She exhales, warm, moist breath scaling down his neck, and that did it.

"Sure."

* * *

When they're close enough, Kevin has to bite down the urge to scoff indignantly. _This would do to pay for my retirement. And it's spent on one party. It's official, they're crazy._

The white tent is far too large, and not exactly modest when he contemplates the dining table and velvet cushioned chairs resting for each guest and in-lives, complete with decorations, bouquets of peonies and the swan ice sculpture by a marble pillar.

It's impressive, the classic porcelain and silverware set of utensils. He kind of feels like a ragtag broken toy being pulled among the world for well made dolls.

The dishes were due to be served in maybe fifteen or twenty minutes or so, and with that it left everyone, which had been about a total of forty people perhaps, standing about the bright green grass, chatting and gossiping like the aristocrats they are.

_She lives in this world._ He has to remind himself that he should adapt and find its extravagance tolerable.

Her hand escapes from his hold abruptly, and the redhead teen launches herself into the arms of a young man amongst the crowd. He steers his way to come nearby them. He hears something along the lines of _I missed you so much, Gwen._ A roll of her vibrant green eyes and then _Oh, you just miss having the fun of teasing me. _He sighs pleasantly and fondly remarks_ Still the same old spitfire, I see. Care to introduce me to your friend?  
_

And that's when she tugs at him, making the two men stand closer forward opposing each other.

"Kevin, meet Ken, my brother." The male Tennyson extended out a hand which Kevin politely shook. The Levin could see the resemblance between him and his sister. Both actually look quite similar save from Gwen's more feminine facial structure which was a rather perfect heart shape, her thinner and higher arched eyebrows as well as the plumper lips he absolutely adores for his own reasons.

"Ken, meet Kevin, my-uh," Gwen stammers at this part and the coal eyed seventeen year-old forced down his snickers. _So she's afraid Ken would go bear brother mode._

"Your boyfriend, I see," Ken finishes the sentence for her, an amused smile on his face. "Glad you finally found one sis, I was getting a little worried you'd turn Brazilian when I got the note you turned down every boy in the academy," his younger sibling whacks him on the shoulder for the comment. Kenneth still doesn't stop. "First I thought you just wanted to keep up those straight A's but you're still doing it even after graduation, plus possessively clinging to Ems and Jules even tighter! It makes me think you're trying to avoid the male species entirely!"_  
_

At this, Kevin couldn't help but to chuckle, a bit proudly too since he's aware he's her first real relationship.

His _girlfriend_, he smirked as he's apparently given consent by her older brother to call her as such, had stormed away with a disbelieving noise growling from her throat as she attempted to find her rightful place on the table.

Ken is suddenly at his side, whistling at the dreamy expression on his pale face. "Nice to see you've got it bad for my sis'."

"Who wouldn't with that kind of spirit?" He finds himself responding automatically, and maybe it's because her brother's kind of different, the unexpected kind since he's fairly accepting that he doesn't feel that uncomfortable to admit such a thing.

The male redhead pats him on the back, apparently satisfied with the answer. "_Oh_, we're gonna get along just fine buddy."

* * *

In the time span of just ten minutes, the two boys apparently managed to reach some sort of friendship. Of course this could only be reached with the lack of estrogen in their midst.

Ken's gotten him acquainted with his dorm mates and best friends as well as on field teammates he's brought over as stay-in guests. One had been a lean Afro-American, Alan Albright and the other was Manny Armstrong, a tanned young man with an imposing build and an abrasive demeanor who was actually nicer in reality when you get on his good side.

They were all in their third year of university enrollment, and were all stars of the lacrosse team. Naturally Gwen's brother's the renowned captain who's led them to the state championship twice now, working on the third.

Ken had been particularly delighted when Kevin informed that he'd be able to kink out the car troubles with his _Awesomobile_, as he'd like to call it though the thing had been an old Junker car instead of the well expected Ferrari given his reputation.

When the Tennyson had explained it'd been a car he built from scratch with a former high school band mate, Pierce Wheels, who'd died tragically in a mugging by a forest clearing during his twelfth year, he turns stony.

_ It was supposed to be our car for post graduation, for road trips where_ _we'd get horribly lost in since either of us happened to understand proper navigation or maybe we've screwed around with too many Mountain Dew_ _bottles_ he'd said and Kevin finds he could relate, not questioning the matter any further.

Ken revealed he keeps two sentimental token of his friend; a yellow triangular bass pick which had been a gift and a photograph of him. As it turns out Pierce did look the part to his name sake, he had ebony spiked hair which had been bleached white by the middle and styled similarly to a mo-hawk, and intense animal-like blue eyes.

_Rouge looking._ Kevin noted, before making further declarations, which was actually in truth, unknowingly accurate. _But honest, kind of misunderstood, loyal._ He assumed he might've gotten along with the guy if he'd still been alive.

_He had a sister, Helen. She's dated Manny for a while, but broke it off with him when he died. Partly the reason why Manny's... Manny._

Kevin cuts Armstrong some slack for being an annoying hothead then. _  
_

They were then requested to attend the presently ready meal by a butler, who somehow managed to find them messing around in an unused storage room by the farthest corner of the estate that they had to get there by horse (the lacrosse trio showed off just a bit), drinking a nasty mixture of coke and beer the four of them pretended they could gobble because of their manly pride (it had been Ben's _creative_ welcoming gift to his cousin) while in reality they're pretty sure they can't wait to run and eat something edible to get rid of the taste. Kevin shudders.

_Why did you have to make a whole jug of that thing, Benji?_

* * *

He easily spots her by the aquamarine summer dress she's wearing.

Gwen seems to have leveled down to her usually cheery self by the time he took his seat discreetly next to her, thankful that only half the table was filled and her parents hadn't arrive as well.

She's working her way decisively on a plate of fresh strawberries, her favorite treat that's apparently gotten her mood to arise. He sighs in relief when it turns out she's decided to forget the little mishap that happened between them and her brother, the goodwill of the get together seemingly poking at her to be forgiving.

"How did it go? I'm guessing you've upset your stomach with Ben's innovative creations," she giggles as she twists to his side to fix a button on his shirt which had come loose a while ago - not that she minded because she's always loved his skin and is curious about the scars that came with it, and he sighs tiredly, even numbly, "You have no idea."

"Do you like him? My brother, I mean.. Not Ben since I know you like him and pretend not to," the girl absentmindedly asked as she plopped another piece of the fruit into her mouth, while glancing sideways to acknowledge Ken's taken his seat at the far end of the table, specific for the guest of honor.

"Yeah, he's great," the young man beside her answered lightly but sincerely, before waving towards said person they're discussing about, for him to return the gesture amicably. Gwen shyly grins at the two, hoping what comes next would be just as easy and pleasant.

The table fills up rather quickly afterwards and the meal started with an appetizer in the variety of lemon and cherry cream pastries. Awkwardly Kevin hovered his hand across randomly for one of the seven eating tools stationed by his plate, trying to figure out which one to use but Gwen gently wraps her hand around his, gaining his attention.

She winks, before plainly using her fingers to munch on the doughy treat, abandoning protocol. She's technically one of the hosts, but she insisted that manners won't be minded, and so he mimics her movements, easily falling into step as more dishes came.

Talks that went around the table had dominantly consisted of congratulations and welcome home's for Ken as well as the occasional dip to business and politics he easily wraps his head around despite what others may think. _They must be thinking I have brain damage just because I grew up in the streets._

Both Gwen and Ben, despite staying fairly quiet and modest throughout had also been considerably included in these engagements, often being asked about their respective future plans. _  
_

Kevin didn't peep one word, and he wished it had stayed that way. Unfortunately Mrs. Tennyson had other plans in mind after she whispered something in her husband's ear.

Frank takes a generous sip at his red wine, before his brown eyes met Kevin's. _Oh crud._ "Son, tell me, what's your name?"

He hasn't spoken at all so when his voice, thick and raspy but foreign to the rest of the guests made its sound, all other conversations died down upon intrigue at the newcomer. "Kevin Levin, sir."

The famed lawyer has an unreadable expression on his face and the teen sweat drops. "Gwen, I take it you've been wanting to introduce your boyfriend for sometime now, am I right?"

"I think so, dad," Gwen graces her companion a gentle smile, and he finds it in himself to relax just a tad bit.

"Where did you go to school?" Sandra, a blonde haired woman who's Ben's mother inquired.

"I didn't attend any private or public schools but I took a valid GED last summer," he answered honestly.

"I see," she concluded as a round of low murmurs from the others began.

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Levin?" Her mother questioned, and Kevin could feel all eyes set on him and interestingly, Gwen's grip on her fork had tightened.

"I work in a garage as a mechanic but I also work as an on-call handyman," he explains thoroughly, hoping he didn't sound too miffed.

"How's that working out for you, kid?" A black haired middle aged man, Frank's cousin whose name was Joel asked. "Just fine, I guess," he replies stiffly.

"How much do you get paid?" Frank presses, and Gwen glared his way for him to only purposely be oblivious. It'd be an insult to not answer the house master's question, especially the head of the lead running Tennyson family branch.

".. I'm self employed, there's no clear wage," he grumbled. The entire table goes silent for a few seconds, before Camille Mann, Joel's wife crackles in feminine laughter. Simultaneously everyone followed (except for Gwen, Ben, Julie, Ken and his friends) and had bellowed as well with a surplus of exclamations which had been mocking, he decided.

_Poor kid, doesn't have a penny in his pocket._

_What does Gwendolyn see in him?_

_She's an heiress and he's a criminal. This is outrageous!  
_

When the guests had their good laugh, their previous topics came back into surface. He avoids the sympathetic gaze deriving from Ben and Julie as well as the stern, disapproving, cold look Ken gives to his mother and father in retaliation.

"I can't believe this. Even my soon to be collegiate Gwendolyn's earned a good five hundred just for a three-day volunteer job, and if I'm not mistaken, all of the jackpot prizes she won for competitions at the academy mounts up to one and a half million," Lily told them and was rewarded with satisfied, awed responses.

Kevin feels the redhead's familiar hand resting on his left knee, guarding him to stay and not do anything brash like flip the table or something. He carefully wipes his lips with a napkin, his appetite no longer existing even with the half eaten steak on his plate, before excusing himself.

People made no recognition to their offense to the young lad's dignity and simply went back to their casual discussions as if they were innocent.

_I should have known this would've happened._ Gwen hardens before getting up on her feet then, obviously worried, and didn't hesitate even one moment to follow his trail.

The thought of searching for one person in her own spectacular five hectare indoors area which comprised of the main manor, the pool house and the stables, not to mention the expanding private garden to the country side hills perturbs her. She accursed at why she lived in an inconveniently large estate ground, but quickened her steps, determined, not letting the prospect of how difficult it might be to find him diminish her confidence.

_He's always followed me. It's my turn now._

* * *

He splashed the tap water onto his face rather inconsiderately, getting a bit of his hair wet in the process. After he's had enough, he turns the faucet off, tense hands gripping on both sides of the sink, his knuckles white. _Spineless rich fools._

Come to think of it he's the one who's gone mad to agree going with her in the first place. _What was I thinking? That I could pretend to belong here.. Stupid! Stupid!_

The door creaks open for there were no locks installed, and hands in hard fists, he's ready to beat the idiot who had the gull to come in and intrude his privacy, or at least what little remains of it.

Instead he comes to face her untarnished beauty which weakens him for a second or so because _no one_ should be able look that beautiful and perfect when wearing guilt, and he puts the idea to the back of his mind that she'd just trespassed into the men's room. It's her mansion though so it's technically no problem for her, which is exactly why it's a problem for him.

"I am _so_ sorry," he couldn't register when did Gwen stepped deeper in so quick to be able to lay a tentative hand on his shoulder, already passionately blaming herself for what happened.

"Don't start with it, Gwen." He's not explosively angry, like he's supposed to be, and instead there's a different kind of fury. It's buried, laced with hatred and defeat. She openly flinches at his next words.

"Though that shit they pulled was wrong on so many levels, it had some truth to it. Truth you need to understand."

_I can't give you anything. I'm nothing but an embarrassment._

She hates where he's aiming at, and wishes he'd stop and realize his own admittance, because it was a far cry from the truth she came to believe. _"Kevin-"_

"I'm not worth it, Gwen." He lightly takes her wrist and pulls her hand off of him, and she blanches, hearing exactly what he said but needing it to not be true. "What?" The look on her face is of deep hurt, like she's been burned or something, and Kevin forces himself to refuse losing focus.

"I'm not worth anything. And I'm surely not worthy of you," he tries to walk away, but she only allows him to move by a single step before she blocks him.

"That's bullshit," she lets out, eyes smoldering, before standing on her tip toes to peer close to his face. "Out of all the people I know here today, you're the only one without a price tag. And you are worth so much more than anything I could ever possibly have. Isn't _that_ what matters? How _I_ feel about you?" She tickles him with the strawberry scented air seeping from her clarifying whispers, and he sighs at the unyielding battle she gave.

"If you can't see it the way I do then I guess the real Kevin who doesn't take crap from anyone else is gone- _mmphh!"_ She's effectively silenced by the brief, soft kiss he instigated. She instantly mimics him, her mouth perfectly calm under his tender yet fierce lead.

They break away as a small smile etches his face at the sight of her enamored expression - _you're the only one who's ever looked at me like that, Gwen._ "I guess debate club paid off, huh? I'm always going to lose if I argue against you."

"You got that right," she teased.

It's foolish of her to make him one of the ties that bind. But maybe that's what being young and in love is about. It's not ephemeral when it's true, and finally, just as how it should be, they pay no heed to the ruins that comes along with it.


	5. History

_A/N: Thank you so much you guys for getting this up to the 50-review-count. Can't believe this thing surpassed "Breathe Again" which is at least double the word count in total if compared. Strange indeed. Onto this chapter then... Ho-ho-ho, it's getting funky, erm, steamy I mean. Nothing graphic though, but still. Honestly some of the content here is out of my comfort zone, I bet you can tell if you read some of my other stuff because there is no way that this belongs in my element. You'll see._

_I'm still trying to learn though. And maybe someday I'll be better and braver at handling these scenes. There's a horde of super amazing writers who sniffs the crap out of the real show/book/movie and blows things epically in the fandom with their fics, I feel like a freaking ant just waiting to be crushed when compared. Totally flabbergasted at their awesomeness. So do me a favor and press the review button at the bottom? Please? Fill it in with absolutely ANYTHING your heart desires. But not flames. Oh, screw it, flames are fine too._

_(#Confession: An absolute joy to write. An absolute pain to edit. THE LENGTH OF THIS = JESUS HALLELUJAH)  
_

_Disclaimer: Disclaimed.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_History_

_._

_._

_._

_Rewriting the past is impossible. It's like a tattoo. Permanent. But some scars are beautiful._

* * *

For the season of summer, the sun wasn't beating on them too hard. The largest star's being gracious, strangely so. The day's warm, just like always, with radiant rays of sunlight making every object in its path glitter like small gems. The grass, the water, her hair_. _

Kevin's thoughts drifted to the last object. Her crimson tresses. It flowed naturally down her shoulders, thick and present. Even from a distance the Levin knew it smelt of apples and candy. With that being said, it's easy to decipher that the scene around them is nothing in comparison to the angel seated opposite of him in the small row boat.

He's always admired the way she angles her neck oh so sharply to the side, letting vermillion locks fall over forward. She's feminine, beautiful and nothing less. _  
_

"I always knew you thought I'm pretty," she broke his bedazzled gaze, and no longer in a blurry haze he began to listen, his ears tingling with every word hanging in the humid air, "But I'd never thought I'd have enough magic to put you in a trance," she hums expectantly.

He grins. "What can I say? You're practically made out of magic," he fessed up.

"_Oh_, _really?_ Coming from the scientific guy, that's kinda hard to believe," the female Tennyson teased, her arms moving about to paddle their private canoe. The wooden method of transport moved exactly by a foot just by her single _effortless_ effort. He had to blink, she'd just moved all their weights combined in one go.

She still amazes him. He's insisted that he should be the only one to row them along the connective stream to the main lake because in the gentleman's rule book, which was in reality just his common sense, it's supposed to be the guy's job. It always has been.

But then the girl known as the one and only Gwendolyn Tennyson hollered and destroyed said ethic. As usual, he'd expected as much, he lost to her by the fifth comeback.

_That's silly. We call this our date because it's ours. We both should be doing the grunt work._

_Nope. I think you're pretty much insane to want to sweat your skinny arms out moving this piece of chunk about-_ his stomach churns under her jaded glare- _I mean, this uh- nice piece of ah- art that keeps us floating about the water!_

First lesson to handle every Tennyson on earth; You do not, never ever, under any circumstance insult, make fun, or simply point out the tiniest of weakness at any of their owned or shared property. Simplest thing ever right? Not.

For a guy with a loud mouth and a pretty easily spiked temper, it was sure a challenge for Kevin. But like all other things that came with being with Gwen, it'd been worth it. Because at every second he had to shut himself up, either under her stare or his own conscience's command, he'd know a kiss from her cherry lips awaited.

_Don't be so freaking difficult, Kevin. It's my idea, I wanted us to go along this river so I'm getting my part of the job. It's called sharing. Didn't they teach you that at school? Oh wait, oops, 'sorry._

A small silence, then he cracks up because she doesn't need to really feel bad about any of her slips. They were rare, and they're both humans, capable of forgetting small details. Besides she remembered so many about him already that he felt like he's living a dream to have her by his side.

So he gave up. He submitted in defeat before his girlfriend whom expertly navigated their way through the stream. At least she didn't have any qualms about sitting on her spot instead of his because he's currently facing the back of the direction of where they're going which can cause a bit of discomfort even though they're moving at a relatively slow speed. It's the only battle he's ever won with her.

_Hey, if you sit there, I can guarantee that by the time we're halfway over this thing, you'd be wanting to upchuck and heave over. Not to say you'd kinda ruin the moment we're having here, but you'll ruin it._

Gwen, having little tolerance to awkward motions, she'd told him she didn't like going on yachts or cruises no matter how amazing or expensive they were because she often got seasick - didn't go against him, knowing it's best to not object. Anyways it'll be a crisis she'd never recover from if she were to puke on his shoes or something just for being stubborn over this.

_ Fine. At least I still get to move this thing. Now, give me those oars. We'll be wasting daylight if we don't start out soon.  
_

They hadn't talked since then. Except for up until just now. _  
_

Honestly they were both content with the silence. Gwen had a thing for nature, she practically taught her brother to groom his horse when he first got it for lacrosse when she'd been twelve and as such, she reveled in the green harmony of their current surroundings.

On the other hand, her breathing was enough for him. It's always been more than enough.

The sound of oxygen moving through her lungs and nose that told him she wasn't a mere faction of his hallucinations, that she's actually situated right across from him, smiling softly - is nothing but the best reward for all his struggle. Her eyes, even as she squinted to observe the magnificent branches above in order to accommodate to the light, shone ever so brightly. He reminded himself, she was his.

Kevin thought about their destination for a while, a particular matter Gwen had been mysterious even secretive about. There was nothing to worry about, of course. He practically had all the time in the world, and she for one held her own reins about her time though he'd made it a point to not blatantly disrespect her parents by going out of curfew limits and such, or to waste and spoil everything on him.

_Save it for something important._ He'd said.

She never answered him, but deep down, he knew and dreaded the words her heart whispered. _You're the only thing that matters._

* * *

The universe proves him wrong. For starters he grows skeptical when a droplet of water falls onto his cheek, but then gradually more droplets fell from the sky. It was raining.

The first rain of the summer. It always meant something.

Faster than he's expected, he could feel the cold water seeping through his clothes, soaking him to the bone. Gwen was in a no better shape, she's not upset though, it's actually the opposite.

"I can't believe it!" She laughs, mirthful, acting as if being drenched to the core didn't even miff her the slightest and he feels like he's missing out on something. Suddenly she moved to point out something behind him and he turns, seeing a mass of solid dark amidst the fog and the rain that's quickly progressing to a storm. He supposed it was a building, convenient for shelter.

"Is that where we're going?" He half asked, half yelled due to the escalating noise made from the rough weather.

"Yeah, we'll be safe there. It's not far, we'll get there five minutes tops," she replied, still completely unfazed by their current situation. Any girl other than her, on a date with an average guy claimed by this catastrophic disaster which included having her getup ruined and possibly catching a cold later on would've been dramatic and all prissy about it.

She's not ordinary. She'll never be in his eyes.

"Alright then, brace yourself princess," he warned coolly, cocking his head back at her to smolder. She beams cockily to counter his look. "Couldn't have said it better myself, city boy."

* * *

They scrambled indoors just as the first lightning strikes, a visage visible even from the lid of glass windows and the sullen looking curtains. Kevin spews out a breath he hadn't know he was holding, relieved. He examined his surroundings, before his eyes widened. _What the hell?_

"Gwen, did we enter the wrong door or something?" Came out his meek question. He's aware he didn't really pay attention to where they went as soon as they reached dry land, only obliging to her firm lead as they ran towards the structure, not having a full comprehension of the place they entered. _  
_

"Actually, that's the only entrance door in the first level," she answered. He blanched, spluttering. "What? And how do you know of this?"

She traces her foot lightly as she stepped deeper inside, as if she's walking on thin air, or like it's warm sand beneath her because it's an expression of utter gratefulness that graces her face when she turns to him. "This is my place."

"You _own_ this shack?" He asks her again because he needs to wrap his head around the idea that she owns the dusty, screwed shut site that looks as if it's a ghost house or something. He walks towards the spot she stands on, to inspect the items lingering in the barren room. She dismisses his earlier term for calling their safe-house a shack, it's probably just personality escaping. He couldn't help it and even though she wouldn't admit it, she found it more adorable than actually offending.

They were standing on what's supposed to be a living room, that he's quite sure of. There's a torn up carpet covering about two-thirds of the room, it's color now a dull brown. He finds it to be a contrast to the regal red that covers the granite grounds of her estate.

There's lots of shelves on different heights and angles, some still held thick leather covered books, a few held mementos and ornaments, and unique tidbits at each corner. Two royal cabinets, both tall with bordered glass doors which would've been a great sale at the market if it weren't for their bad shape from age rested by the middle of each end of the wallpapered walls.

He guessed they contained valuables and perhaps some liquor due to the style of the town's residents. Rich nor poor, everyone stores at least a bit of alcohol in their private alcoves.

There's still some furniture remaining, a chair with a broken leg there, a broken piano across the floor of the stairs, a low desk, and out of nowhere there's this sort of large moss green futon lying around in the middle of the room which occupied the majority of the empty space.

In a creepy, but cute, quaint sense to regard this rundown secret hideout of their own, it felt almost perfect.

This was where their worlds collide, if he's being kind of literal about it. Everything placed inside of the house was just like her. All came from the finest, all costing what he'd rather not know, all classy and antique. Things he'd never find anywhere but here. Yet in a retrospect, his being, his very essence contaminated, possessed them all. Each item, each object belonging under this very roof was layered with fine dust, rust, stains, every kind of mark that resembles brokenness. That resembles him.

She tells him the story then, just as he's creating his own.

"This house used to be my grandfather's."

"The late Max Tennyson? The astrophysicist?" Kevin questioned, he knew the inner parts of her family tree and to some degree might even be an expert at defining the status and personal data of Tennyson family members for someone who gained knowledge of it in such a short notice. He knew that Max's grandchildren particularly Ben and in second, Gwen were very close to him, even regarded the grandparent as a second father or sort.

Kevin looked up to Max, even though he hadn't known him personally, his mother had once mentioned that the man was a good friend of his father's and unlike the other Tennysons who resolved to build their riches on manipulative ownership, business shares, and court justice, Max had devoted his life to science, extraterrestrial space intelligence to be precise.

"Yeah," she replied shortly, "I take it you also know my grandmother, his wife?" Her tone is surprisingly sour, and he chooses to timidly answer and pronounce the exotic name, a name which probably only existed once in an era, "Verdona Tennyson."

"_Just_ Verdona," the redhead spat. Her hand comes upon an old picture frame, and her grip turns to iron that it alarms him. "Hey, take it easy, Gwen! What's wrong?" He immediately circles over to her front, wanting to have a direct view of the girl's face.

Sure enough it was contorted to a pained emotion that would haunt him in his dreams tonight.

He gently takes a hold of her hand and grabs the frame from her, luckily able to accomplish the feat. Any second longer, the glass would've shattered and her fingers would've bled out. He sighs.

"You don't like her, can I know why?" His voice, it's so tender, she almost couldn't recognize it as his own but it was. The two of them were the only souls in the building, the entire mile radius even.

"Max loved her, he built her this house, furnished it with everything he worked for. Proposed in a planetarium by how only _god_ knows, and she accepted," she tells him, bordering on a breakdown, but somehow managing her way still. There were no tears, and though her voice was shaky, it was still unyielding to the raw misery her tale held.

"He made her a goddamn telescope just to show her a star he named after her, I think it's still upstairs and though it's broken, it's still there!" She's hysterical, but at least she's not moving about or breaking anything and that's all he can ask for. So he gives her his undivided attention and stays through it all. He's never seen her angry, no, livid would be the correct word to name her current state. She's on fire, her skin burning, the afterglow of porcelain seen even in the dim light.

It's like she can rip the entire atmosphere apart with just one blow. It doesn't scare him, she's just shown him every beauty held its beast.

"Do you know what happened next?!"

_I don't know what happens next._ He remains voiceless and lets her answer her own question, the one she barked at him. Oh, this was definitely new.

"He waited for her, he _waited_ and she traveled around the world doing what she called 'soul searching'. Sounds to me she'll _never_ find her soul no matter where she looked," Gwen mocked. _Tsk, tsk. Aren't you being a little too harsh? _Her inner self tries to tame her, but she's no longer restrained, her blood white hot from fury.

"My grandfather died waiting for her. With a broken heart. She- she _killed_ h-him," that's when the sobs came. Instantly his arms came to envelop her in the nest that is his body, and she buries her head in his chest, muffling the sound of her crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Gwen," he embraces her tighter, for they didn't really need air supply, all they needed was this hold on each other. She looks up to him, her eyes pallid, still glistening with building tears. "You know what's worse? The last stories my grandpa told me was about her. How much he missed her. He still believed she'd return. He even told me how much I reminded him of her, how happy he was on his final days getting to see me because I look so much like her.."

_That- that's sick. Being told you're a reflection of the person you hate, the person you despise, the person who stole something, someone of great importance to you. _Kevin couldn't find it in himself to verbally console her anymore for his throat was also constricting, in effect of the cold revelation. Instead his hand nuzzles her back, grazing it delicately like she's a flower's petal.

"He said I had the same hair-," as if on cue his eyes flashed towards the photograph in the frame, he hadn't realize he's the one who dropped it as soon as he abandoned the trinket for the more taxing yet heartwarming guise of comforting her. The glass had broke, but thankfully it wasn't sprawled around in pieces that they'd need to avoid it. He sees the image of a couple, about Gwen's parent's age. The male, strongly built like him, had brown hair chopped into a neat cut and lively cerulean eyes. Eyes that transcend decades he knew they could only belong to Max. Wrapped in his arm was a lady, well endowed, lean and proportionally figured. Her orange hair came to below her shoulders, her widow's peak accentuating her angular face. Intense, magnetizing blue eyes stare back at him. He couldn't deny the startling resemblance between Gwen and her grandmother (of course during her middle ages, but then again he's heard how Verdona simply looked ageless even after escaping her peak), it even makes what one would detect between Gwendolyn and Lily, her birth mother - fade thinly in comparison.

"-the same smile-," he couldn't help but to wince at the grimace she gave when she said the word 'smile'. It's like she cursed how she's able to lift the corners of her lips into the pleasant expression just in favor of hoping to rid similarities between her and the older woman. "-and, the same _spirit."_

She fell apart then. She chokes, "Does- does that mean I'm _destined_ to run away and leave you like she did to my grandpa?" _  
_

It's like she's connecting celestial possibilities and stretching it thin towards negativity. Now he knows where she got it from. Her wits, her strengths, her motives to battle against every little thing she presumed would be the end of them. How she's foxed around and tricked him into guiding her way past their usual hangout portions as if she's afraid the moment she's separated from him there's going to be a deadweight that makes her teeter and gravitate farther and farther away from him. How badly he feels when there had been this one time he's called her something akin to _clingy_, but maybe something a bit more crass because they sort of lose their sophistication in word choices when they're around each other.

Now he understands it all. She's trying so hard to rinse mistakes she couldn't account herself for, mistakes made by the legacy of her family, mistakes that shouldn't even be part of her responsibility. She tries to wash it all away. Max had died to the general public as an unknown, as a pity compared to his first children whom heightened the name of the Tennysons and made the family loot surplus.

The world forgot the humble past of the first Tennysons, people like Max. They don't think he's worth remembering. They think he's a shame. They only excuse him because he's one of the firsts, they deny he's a vital part of the generations. He wasted it all for a woman, a woman who left him with two sons and nothing more. Not even her own heart.

Gwen thinks, no believes, she's going to be the reincarnation, repetition for her grandmother's sins. She doesn't think of herself as a redeemer, and instead believes she'll be another part, the principal instigator of another cycle of hurt. A cycle of betrayal. _I'm the fruits to Verdona's seeds._

"Gwen," he calls her as if she's a million miles away, and she turns to him, her eyes holding his and he hopes his words sinks into her. "What your family did, what your grandmother did, it doesn't define you. Destinies _aren't_ set in stone, not for us. We take control.."

_I did when I asked you out hanging from that Ferris wheel._

_You did when you decided to approach me when I'd been a terrified, unsure mess after I figured out who you are. _

"We lead our own lives. And you I'm sure, could probably handle five or six on your own," he cracks the joke because she's a woman of multitude talents and he's not quite sure how come she hadn't been awarded with a Nobel or something for her inspiring opinions. _  
_

"I have my share of secrets too, Gwen. Some I'm not proud of, some I can't really understand myself," it's her turn to let him confide, he won't be long, he'll never be long when he's the one talking, she knew of it. She finds herself savoring this opportunity, wanting to salvage it for as long as she could.

"My _dad.."_

"Devin Levin," she finishes his sentence, and he chuckles, a hollow sound that doesn't quite fit coming out.

"Yeah, he- he was a veteran. Died in service with a bullet to the heart. Guess they should've made their suits denser or something _huh_, gotta talk about that to a designer or someone," he laughs again and Gwen knows it's the kind of laughter you have to let out because it's easier than to scream.

"He's supposed to come home in three days. I was ten, and when I heard I grew impulsive, just the way everyone knows me to be. I lasted five months in the house, and when my mom got engaged to this guy who's a jerk and accepted right in front of me, I lost it."

He doesn't want to look her in the eyes now, and it's fine, they have different methods of spilling their emotions. She lets his eyes penetrate hers when she's vulnerable, he doesn't find that agreeable and it's alright. Instead her head finds the spot, the nook in his collar bone, pressing just a tad bit and rests there. It fits perfectly, as if it's meant to lie there.

"I blew up the house," he confessed, and her heartbeat stops for a second. "No, I didn't blow as in literally _blow_ it up. I just smashed it pretty bad," her pulse starts again at this and she sighs, giggling softly in delirium. "Got kicked out then, but didn't matter, didn't care. I was going to get on my own way anyways. And then I walked on my lonely road. Gangs after gangs, crime after crime, naturally it came to me."

"What came to you?" Her small voice quivered in the hesitant question, genuinely wondering what he was referring to.

_"Survival,"_ was his grim answer. "With my head on the chopping block with each scandal that caught up with me that's all I can learn. Definitely not morality. Or religion," he caresses the base of her neck, where her cross pendant lies, the jewel cold to the touch of his finger's skin. Without a word, she gently takes it off by the clasps, letting it drop to the tiled floor.

"I don't know if my mom forgives me or not. I hadn't seen her for-," he plays with his fingers to count before finishing his calculations, "Seven years, two months, eight days and fifteen hours."

_Wow, that's detailed._

"But you spoke to her?"

"Once. When I turned fifteen, I saved up some cash that I mailed to give to her. I figured either she's living single or she's still with that Edward guy or some other guy, I don't really keep track but all I know is the money couldn't have hurt. And it's sort of an indirect reconciliation attempt-," he shushes the redhead's slightly parted lips because he predicted the _materials can't buy people_ lecture she's about to grace him with since he still has a few more things to let out.

"-I'm not trying to get in my mother's good side, believe me I can manage well on my own. Well, as in the 'well' in my standard definition. Not much, but it gets me by. I don't need any charity crap if turns out the guy she's with turned out to be some posh or something, and that's sort of unlikely since the only good one my mother's ever picked was my dad."

"Then why haven't you gone to see her? She misses you, she must've."

"I'm not ready, Gwen," he swallows thickly, admitting his weakness, his fear. "I'm still angry with all that I did and all that's happened, I'm still angry with how easy it was for her to move onward and let my pa's memory just pass like it's wind. It was supposed to eat her out like it did me. It's supposed to ravage her until she buries herself in his ash, she's supposed to find his death.. _inconsolable."_

"You hated how she let him go easily," the girl in his hold stated, not asked. He could only nod.

"It's not supposed to be just hard. It's supposed to be impossible, especially for her. I was his son. She was his lover. They tasted every inch of each other, bedded each other to conceive me, their bond should've been unbreakable. It should've been enough to transcend lifetimes," his forearms are far too stiff, hardened, and she melts into his skin, folding through the length of his limbs, sweetly calming him like a sedative. He shudders, giving in under the body contact.

She just made his frustrations melt as if it was nothing.

"So Gwen.." His gaze renders her silent, unthinking. "You do know me, like Max, when I fall for something, especially someone like you, I won't ever give up, not even if it takes an eternity of finding peace."

His fingers brush away the stray crimson thread that escaped, placing it back behind her ear, feeling the slight strum of electricity when his skin grazes hers.

"And you Gwen, you are _nothing_ like Verdona. You can never do what she did. You can't have it in you no matter what anyone or anything throws at you to get you to change and be pushed into going any other way than to me."

Her entire chest feels like it's folding and jutting out on unstoppable palpitations, butterflies fiercely consuming her insides. "You- you know me better than anyone else," she lets out, astounded. _Even better than I know myself._

It doesn't stun him when the words chased themselves out of his vocal chords, he lets them come out willingly. "That's because I love you."

Her entire form is a fixation for his path of mind. Simply everything about her, her eyes, her skin, her soul drives him sensationally placated. "I love _you_, Gwen. Forever and always," he murmurs.

"I love you too," she says back equally, breathless but sure. With the barest course of movement, before her lips completely close he steals his thin cue, pulling her as if she's a flexible string of rubber. The kiss is unlike anything they've ever shared before, it twists at every single nip and tuck, and soon oxygen feels abundant despite that it doesn't even make sense since they haven't even completely parted away, not once. Seconds tick by, and it's racing euphoria coursing through their veins.

She's tugging at his shirt, him at her corset tube top's ribbon. It's like a nonsensical tug of war, they're pulling and clearing off the layers they have on each other. Who's faster? They don't really know, it's probably a tie because their glowing fair skin had smashed together at about the same time.

Kevin loves this next part. He couldn't really register whose weight it was that had pulled them down to crash onto the thin futon cushion, but all he knew was as soon as their bodies hit the floor, there was no such thing as a pause. It didn't exist.

Everything felt like blur. There was rolling, twisting, and grinding, everything so violent, so savage and maddening he couldn't really believe she was capable of participating through it all. But in fact, she'd been the one urgent of him, desperate and ferocious of their turbulent joining.

They both urged possibly the most personal yet passionate sound to come from the other one's throat. Unexplainable grunts on his part, while moans and sighs on both their guilty charge. Combined with the escalating beating of their pumping hearts, it'd been the music from another realm. One that was never discovered, one filled with the boundless treasures of the drug ecstasy.

The world illuminated around them as black irises devoured green.


End file.
